Echoes of the Past and Present
by Jillcb
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and one shots based on Game of Thrones. It is about many different characters and their journeys throughout the series. There is plenty of angst, relationships, with hopefully every emotion covered!
1. Chapter 1

**Daenerys Targaryen Comes Home**

Summary: On a sunny day Daenerys Targaryen returns to the place of her birth, Dragonstone. As she arrives there, she is able to see the castle of her family's former stronghold in all its majesty.

As Dragonstone became closer the salt from the sea began to sting Dany's eyes. At least, that's what she told herself, but in her heart, she knew the stirrings of emotion were all her own. Above her Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion chased across the sky and for a moment she breathed it all in. She and her dragons were coming home.

This was the moment she had been waiting for all her life. As she briefly relived the past that had brought her to this moment, she suddenly felt impatient to feel the sand beneath her feet. For so many years she had longed for the time when she could return to her birthplace.

She closed her eyes and for a second her brother Viserys loomed large before her. His sneering eyes and voice booming out, "Tell me, sweet sister, how do we go home?" She blinked the image away in an instant. Her brother had long since departed, but now she was here with an army and a band of advisors. As the boat became closer to the sand, she could almost sense the isolation around her. It was as if everyone else had accepted that this was her moment. They had respectfully withdrawn out of her space.

As she was helped out of the boat, she looked ahead at the enormous castle perched high on the rocks. It was here that she had been born, as a summer storm had raged around Blackwater Bay. She slowly made her way across the sand, her heart beating as she felt the golden sand beneath her boots. She could sense her companions following at a discreet distance, but she had already become apart from them.

As a feeling of emotion overwhelmed her, she slowly went down on her knees, putting her hand on the sand. She looked at the imprint it made watching as the sand fell between her fingers, the Targaryen's were back in their old stronghold and suddenly, the past seemed very close to her. Suddenly she was restless to explore Dragonstone, without a look back she moved forward. She could hear the dragons screeching as they played above her. She glanced at them lovingly, like a mother would to a mischievous child. They seemed to be as excited as her, to explore their new home.

She increased her speed, her face only looking up at the castle, passing the great grey black cliffs until it narrowed into a path. The first of a number of steps greeted her, she barely paused as she began to climb them. After a few minutes, she had reached a fork in the path, but ahead were two huge gates which guarded the castle proper.

A couple of unsullied soldiers went towards the gate, she took a moment to take in the two stone carved dragons which guarded it. Then the gate swung open and for the first time, Dany caught a proper look at her ancestral home. The first thing that struck her was how mighty it looked. Black, but bold it screamed fortress at her. After a brief stop, she began to climb up more steps as the path started to wind its way up to the castle. All around her, the cliffs and sea dominated the landscape. Now, more than ever she began to appreciate just what an important base Dragonstone could become.

By now Tyrion, Missandei, Varys and Grey Worm had joined her. As they continued to climb the steps, Dany became aware of what had come before. This was where her family had resided, where her great House had enjoyed its most important years. As they reached the top, she took in the scene around her. Then as the doors were flung open, she took her first steps inside the place of her birth.

They walked through a darkened corridor and then into a room. The first thing Dany saw was the Baratheon flag dangling like a limp flower, at the end of its life. Dany looked at it with contempt, before quickly pulling it to the ground leaving it there in a heap, with barely a second glance.

She moved passed it, towards another door. Two unsullied pushed it open to reveal another big room. The first thing that caught her eyes was the throne sitting there ahead. The room was dark and dominated by big grey pillars, with a window behind the huge throne which threw bits of light around it. She slowly climbed the steps, taking in the features of the distinctive style of her family's décor. Everything screamed strength and uniqueness. Dragonstone was renowned for its vast wealth and majesty. This room somehow summed up everything the Targaryen's had once been about.

As she climbed to the top of the steps, she briefly took the throne in, but then moved passed it. She moved further up the room before an opening revealed itself to her. She needed no second invitation and walked through it, to be greeted by the cliffs and waves crashing outside the huge window, which had come into view. She smiled as she recognised the table. This was something others had spoken about to her. The great war table, were battles were hatched and Kingdoms were invaded and there it was right in front of her.

She looked down at it, knocking her fingers around the edge of the table, taking in the huge map of Westeros which lay before her. For the first time, she noticed Tyrion had joined her and was taking in the sight of the wooden carved dragons on the side of the great walls. Their eyes briefly met, but then she continued on her journey around the table, taking in every place that was pinpointed on the map. This would be where she planned her capture of the Kingdom, from this very room that had seen her family hold the seat of power years before.

Daenerys Targaryen was home and now Westeros would, at last, be hers to command. Now the hard work to ensure her destiny would be fulfilled could truly begin. Suddenly she didn't want to waste another second.

"Should we begin?" her voice sounded low and unemotional yet her spirit raced uncontrollably.

**The end.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Arrival in a Hostile World**

**Summary: **As Dany and Jon travel north to Winterfell, Dany considers the past history of her House and that of House Stark, and what her "welcome" will be like.

As Dany guided her horse steadily up the hill, she became aware of an increase of frostiness around her. The people who lined the road on both sides wore faces of suspicion and in some cases out right loathing. Dany, already was aware from Jon's constant warnings the northerners would take time to accept her. The history which existed between her House and the Stark's, would see to that.

As she and Jon had travelled from Dragonstone Jon had made it clear that the north would not instantly concede to her, despite his own allegiance to her. She gave a quick look his way and was met by his dark eyes, glowing with love for her, despite the lack of feeling elsewhere.

She knew from her own experience in the east, that there would always be challenges to overcome. In each place she'd arrived there had been endless people who had questioned her, doubted and underestimated her. But there was always some who had welcomed her. But as she continued along the road, she sensed there was no good will towards her in anyone here. She took a deep breath sitting taller on her horse, determined to show no weakness to anyone.

As she looked ahead, she could see in the distance Winterfell in all its glory awaiting her. She looked at Jon once more, appreciating the mixture of pride and fear in his eyes, as she knew he too would face challenges from his own people. He had left Winterfell as King of the North, but had now ceded power to Dany. She wasn't under any illusions that it would ruffle some feathers back in the north.

On their journey, she had enjoyed his various tales about his siblings. She had already suspected, her biggest challenge would be the person Jon had left in charge of Winterfell, Sansa. She felt a nervous apprehension, but was determined to control it. She had after all, met many powerful people on her way to becoming Queen. She would bow to no one, not even the north. As she looked around her, the hostile faces still eyed her, but she glumly looked ahead of her.

"I warned you northerners don't trust outsiders," Jon said, trying to cheer her.

It was then her two remaining children had flown above them, bringing a moment of darkness as their huge wings blocked out the light and sent the hordes of people running in all directions. It was almost as if they had sensed their mother's moment of doubt and had decided to intervene and in an instant, she felt proud and strong once more. Never mind the hostile looks she was Daenerys of House Targaryen.

In all of her weaker moments, it was her background that had been her strength. It had given her purpose and the confidence to confront the injustices of the world. In her battle with the slave masters no matter how impossible her position had been, she had a found a way to overcome, the most hostile of environments. If she had to do this once more, she would rise to the challenge without any regrets. This had always been her destiny in life. She would not concede to it now.

It took another few minutes before Dany could see the archway which led to the court yard. By now, Jon had ridden ahead of her. Suddenly, she felt a distance, as if silence had fallen around them, she could no longer see even her two excited children flying around. For a second she felt alone, as she sensed even Jon had grown apart from her. She had seen his tension as he approached his family. For the first time, she noticed Bran siting in his wheelchair looking isolated from everyone around him. Suddenly, Jon had got off his horse and was embracing his brother.

"Look at you, you're a man," Jon had said, his words full of emotion.

"Almost," Bran had replied, looking distant.

Dany by now was standing with Jorah watching with interest Jon's hug of his sister Sansa. For the first time Dany saw her. Sansa had hugged Jon tightly though not before throwing a look in Dany's direction. The Dragon Queen sensed an iciness in her face and tried hard to control an irritation. She waited patiently awaiting, for Jon to make the formal introductions.

"Where's Arya?" Jon had asked, looking around.

"Lurking around somewhere," Sansa had replied.

Dany had suddenly had enough of waiting around, deciding to walk towards the Stark siblings. Seeing her, Jon had smiled.

"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen," Jon announced, as Dany joined him. "My sister, Sansa Stark the Lady of Winterfell,"

"Thank you, for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark," Daenerys replied, staring into Sansa's face. "The north is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you,"

Dany was struck by how strong and resolute Sansa was, as she returned a withering look Dany's way. As if thinking about her response, Sansa had given Dany a good looking over before replying.

"Winterfell is yours, your Grace," Sansa's voice seemed as cold as the snow lying on the ground.

Just as Dany was thinking of a reply, Bran broke abruptly into the conversation.

"We don't have time for this!" he said, "The Night King has your Dragon, he's one of them now. The wall has fallen, the dead march south,"

Dany exchanged glances with an aghast Jon. Suddenly, the lack of a welcoming genuine greeting from Sansa Stark, was the least of Dany's problems. She once again felt the pain of the loss of her other child, now a helpless pawn in the game against the living. She knew now, if she didn't know before that their courage and fortitude was about to be tested like never before. She vowed she would not be found wanting.


	3. Chapter 3

**An Honourable Man**

Ned Stark looked out of the window, down onto the square outside. Kings Landing was busy now, people coming and going, selling their wares, gossiping in groups. He had been in the capital for two months and already he was missing Winterfell. The northern lands maybe colder in climate than Kings Landing, but there was a natural warmth there that seemed absent in the world, he had recently entered.

Someone had described Kings Landing as a nest of vipers, as he tried to work out whom he could trust, never had an observation felt more accurate. It seemed as if he had walked into a place of endless speculation, secrets and half-truths spewed on every wall. What was true? Whom could he rely on? After a couple of days he had felt totally lost, and even two months on it was no clearer.

He came from a place where a man, called a spade, a spade, where truth was paramount. He lived his life serving people, and doing his duty. Winterfell was a reflection of himself. Life there was hard but straight forward and true. He had brought his children up to respect everyone, no matter where they came from. Now he had brought Arya and Sansa to King's Landing and already, he was wondering if he had made a terrible mistake.

He had said yes to his friend the King out of loyalty. He had never really wanted to leave the north and he had never wanted to become the King's Hand. But once asked despite Catelyn's protest, saying no was never an option. It was his duty and a man lived and died by that. If he was a man of true worth, then making sacrifices made you what you were. Yet deep inside his mind was an unanswered question, one he was being forced to ponder more than he wanted too.

As he thought about the people who dominated the royal court would it be possible to live by his convictions, in this cesspool of deceit and lies? He had always sworn that he would never comprise his principals, but suddenly it felt as if the world he now inhabited was becoming less and less clear.

He had always sworn that he would stay true to his upbringing, but now the lines were becoming ever more blurred. In this palace of smoke and mirrors he no longer truly understood what he was seeing, and more important what he could do. If only Catelyn was by his side, how he missed her honesty and straight forward opinions.

There was a lack of honesty in the capital. It seemed that so many people hid behind closed meanings, never quite saying what they meant. Varys, Baelish for two, Ned could never quite work out what either of them was about. Both had come to him the last couple of days whispering things in his ears, sharing information. Yet neither could supply the answers that Ned was after. He maybe a blunt northerner but he knew when people were not being fully honest with him.

Yet in a way they were both playing their roles, as given to them by their paymasters. But what concerned Ned more was his old friend and comrade Robert Baratheon. The years as King had changed him, Ned could no longer deny it to himself. To begin with he had dismissed such thoughts, and merely put it down to the ways of the court. But as he had got down to business, checked the books, Ned knew there was something stinking at the heart of King's Landing. He also realized his friend now cared less about duty and more about taking advantage of what was available. He had grown fat on the excess of his position.

His pride had been crushed, he was surrounded by spies and plotters. He was stuck in an unhappy marriage with a wife Cersei whom he had never loved. He had allowed the once proud capital to become a place of intrigue, and let its coffers run dry. It felt as if he no longer cared enough to even be bothered, beyond the next tournament or drinking session that he took part in. It truly saddened Ned to see his old friend so truly beaten down, the life completely drained from him. But worse was the indifference to how people saw him. As he shouted and whored his way from one day to the next, Ned could only reflect on the young man he had once been. He had been a man so full of life, and while he had always lived on the edge, it was Robert who had led the rebellion and taken on the Mad King.

But now he was a shadow of what he had once been. He had grown bored and spoilt and allowed the Kingdom to become corrupted. For Ned he struggled to reconcile just how he fitted into this surly place. All of a sudden he was forced to think the unthinkable to go against the very principles that he had always held so dear. The more he stayed in Kings Landing the more he realized he was now stuck in a maze, from which there was no obvious way out. He was suddenly being forced to comprise on his own moral code, as he struggled to keep the Kingdom upright and operating. He was being forced to work with people whose aims and ambitions, he had no clear idea about.

In doing so he could feel himself merging into the deceit that surrounded him. As he watched the people come and go outside, he reflected on a time of more simplicity. In a time when a man's word was his honour and you did the right thing, for the right reason. But now he struggled to work out who was on his side, to see through the cloak of misinformation that was daily thrown out his way.

They would tell him one thing, then another, and somehow, he had to cut through what was the truth and what were the lies. It was enough to make him want to pack his bags, and take his girls back northwards.

Yet that did not take into account the one quality he possessed deep inside himself, which was his stubbornness. He would not let the lies get the better of him. For as long as he remained in the capital he would stay determined to get to the bottom of what the whisperers were telling him, whatever the cost to himself. For he realized the one thing he had through everything, was his honour and integrity. He was determined to stay true to it, otherwise he knew he was no better than the rest of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Fury Inside**

**Summary: **This is about Catelyn Stark. When she "betrayed" Robb by releasing Jaime Lannister, I actually could understand her reasons for it. This is the story of a woman who one day had five children, and suddenly was facing the prospect of losing them all. Little wonder she took the risk she did.

As Catelyn Stark spent her first night locked away, she had plenty of time to consider her situation. In allowing Jaime Lannister to leave she had, in the opinion of the northern men outside betrayed them. More than that as she relived the look of horror on Robb's face, she had let him down. In doing so she had driven a wedge between them, one she knew would take time to heal. In part she had regretted her behaviour. Yet deep inside her heart another feeling of intense fear and fury burned inside her, the thought that she would never see her daughters again.

How could Rob know what that felt like? From the moment that Catelyn had left Riverrun to go north, the one thing she would die to protect were her children. She had been a proud mother of five northern children, but now who knew if she'd see any of them again. She knew she would do anything to keep them safe, but now she felt she'd failed them all, including Robb.

Bran was now unable to walk, and heaven knows where he was now. She had left him and Rickon alone in Winterfell, and now their home had been overrun. She prayed every day that they would remain safe, but she knew how cruel the world could be. Could her boys be lucky enough to avoid the numerous pitfalls that lay in wait for them? The world was full of people who would take advantage of them or worse, if they'd discovered who they were. She prayed so hard for them, that at times she felt barely able to function.

She had allowed her oldest daughter Sansa to go to King's Landing, despite knowing the deceit that reigned there. Her gentle Sansa who had been brought up on tales of gallantry and honourable Knights. It had been her dream to become a faithful Queen. Why had Catelyn failed to protect her daughter from her own naivety? Instead she had waved her away and now she was the Lannister's prisoner, and god knows what they were putting her through.

Then there was Arya, the independent spirit who had always gone her own way. When Cersei had written the letter, her youngest daughter had not even been mentioned, who knew if she was even alive?

In her more optimistic moments, Catelyn dared to believe that Arya's determination and stoic personality would enable her to hide in the background somehow surviving against the odds. But in other ways she too knew little of the world outside her home of Winterfell. King's Landing was full of back-stabbers and double-crossers her beloved Ned had written enough times, when he was working there. How could Arya truly know who to trust in that hostile world?

Ever since she had lost her Ned it had been a constant stream of bad tidings and betrayals. The Starks had gone from disaster to disaster, as the Lannister's ran everything from King's Landing. Now her first born was the hope of the north. He was little more than a boy and here he was leading an army. She cried frustrated tears as she realized that now she had messed this up too, the trust between them now was gone.

Ned what have I done? She wondered to herself in despair. As the moon outside shone into the little room another face joined the long sad procession. But this face made her flinch in bitterness, as she contemplated the dark-haired interloper that had shared their family home. The child she had never learnt to accept. When she had told Talisa of the time she had prayed for Jon Snow's recovery from the pox, she remembered what she'd said about the God's punishing her for not accepting the little boy. Maybe it was true after all, she thought.

But as a mother she could not give up entirely, not if there was the smallest chance of her seeing her children again. That was why she had let Jaime go, that was why she would do it all again another day, if she thought it would bring her girls back to her. Maybe one day when Robb was a father, he would understand her viewpoint better. He would appreciate that just because your children grew up, the desire to protect them never dies inside of you.

As she attempted to settle down for the night, a picture of her husband came into her mind. She had not instantly fallen for the dour Northern man, but in time a love had developed between them, made stronger by the birth of their five spirited children. They would promise one another that if anything happened to one of them, the other one would always be there for them.

As Catelyn's eyes began to close bitter tears ran from them, as she considered how her vow had come to sound so hollow now. She had not protected them, she had failed in her moral duty, and now she did not know if she would see any of them again. She thought of Brienne and all she could do was hope that she could get Jaime to King's Landing safely. She hated the idea of having to rely on the Lannister's yet, surely even Cersei loved her family like she did. If having returned Jaime, maybe Cersei could find it in her own heart, to return Sansa to her?

As the moon began to lower in the sky and the darkness descend over the room she remembered happier days. Ned, her and the children running around the woods, cries of laughter and annoyance as her daughter's fell out again. Robb teaching Bran how to use a cross-bow, with Rickon at her side. Ned running around like a mad thing, trying to keep up with his youngest sons. How those days had felt as if they would never end. But they had, and now she was counting the personal cost of it all.

But she was a Tully of Riverrun, and her children were stubborn Starks, just as the sun rose in the east and went down in the west, she would never give up entirely on her children. She would do anything she could to retain some hope, even if it meant being locked up in an airless room. She would greet the new day believing that at last she would get the news she had prayed for since her children had left, and she had been parted from them. For the memory of her husband she knew she must continue to hope.


	5. Chapter 5

The Kingslayer

**Summary:** Jaime Lannister the "Kingslayer" is a character of wonderful contrast. Like all characters of this nature,

They called him the Kingslayer which for a Knight was one of the worst things that could besmirch his reputation. For when your job was to protect the King, your word was your honour which bound you to all eternity. It would forever taint Jaime in the eyes of the world, people would point at him and whisper.

"There goes the Kingslayer, the man who stabbed his King a man with no honour!"

It didn't seem to matter to people, that there was another side to the story. That the King was at the time threatening to burn people alive. Or that he had demanded to Jaime to kill his father and to burn Kingslanding to the ground.

"Burn them, burn them all..." Aery's had cried out in all his madness.

So, Jaime had done the one thing he could in that moment, he had put his sword in the old man's back, stopping Kings Landing from being burnt to ashes. But of course, by the time the King had laid at his feet, there was no one around to back up his story.

The moment Ned Stark and the rest of Robert Baratheon's men had arrived, all they saw was the Mad King lying at Jaime's Lannister feet. In the very same moment that Jaime's father's Tywin was ransacking Kingslanding outside. In Jaime's eyes he had been condemned and never given the chance to explain the circumstances. From that time onwards, his reputation had disappeared into the mud.

Wherever he walked the whispers followed him around, condemning him where he stood. His fellow Knights looked at him with different eyes, as suspicion reigned among what his motives had been. In the beginning, he would try to explain himself but no one was that keen on listening to the words of a Kingslayer. In the end, he gave up even attempting to justify his act.

Instead he replaced the hurt and answered their angry looks with a smirk. It would convey to the world that he didn't care what they thought. He would wear it like an armour to protect him from their insinuations of his disgrace and fall from honour. He would not let on to them how he felt for that would give them more credence, to Jaime they ceased to exist in his world.

He would go back to the arms of his sister Cersei and bury himself into her love and passion. While there, he would tell himself it didn't matter, it was them against the world. No one else existed apart from them and the children they had secretly created. For a time, it would work and Jaime could ignore the cruel irony of the fact that the one good deed he did, was something he would never be admired for.

When Bran Stark had caught him and Cersei in a sexual act, he had thrown the young boy out of the window. For a second, everything that he and Cersei had was at risk, he acted without thinking. Not considering the consequences for Bran or his family. His only concern had been for his own.

He had expected Bran to die, but the child hadn't. A further attempt on the boy's life had failed after that. But Bran had been condemned to live the life of a cripple but luckily had no memory of how it had happened.

It was only when he'd been captured by Robb Stark's army and had faced Bran's blazing mother Catelyn, that his thoughts had gone back to the boy. When she asked him had he done it, he admitted it. Relieved to get his own self-loathing out in the open. He had stared at her horrified face and she had asked him why. He had asked himself the same wretched question many times over to no avail.

He could give Catelyn no answer because he knew there wasn't anything that he could say, to right the wrong he had done that day. Just as he could not write his own name in the Knights Code of Honour book, he was condemned a second time but, on this occasion, he was entirely at fault. Two very different acts had defined him in very different ways. But still he had been condemned in both situations and that was the ironic twist of fate for Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.

Once Catelyn Stark has accused him of being a man of little honour and not taking his vows seriously. He had thought for a moment and then fixed her with a nonchalant stare, before saying.

"So many vows. They make you swear and swear... Defend the King, obey the King, obey your father, protect the innocent, defend the weak. But what if your father despises the King? What if the King massacres the innocent? It's too much. No matter what you do you're forsaking one vow or another."

He could see the horror on her face at his words, but he could see the irony had been lost on her, just as it had on everyone else, who saw him only one way. Through all the years of hurt, frustration and self-loathing that he had thrown on himself, it scarred him because he did want to be a man of honour. He did want to protect the innocent and the weak. He did want to write in the White Book that he had served with honour, but he knew that life had always had other plans for him. Maybe one day he would have the chance to rewrite his own past, but for now he would remain what he'd always been, the Kingslayer.


End file.
